


Mercy's Eyes Are Blue

by taketheblanket



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mommy Kink, Noctis/Gladio (mentioned), Noctis/Prompto (mentioned), insatiable arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taketheblanket/pseuds/taketheblanket
Summary: Ignis had anticipated it, of course. In preparation for his own role within the Line, he had done extensive reading into the histories of past Lucian Kings and their Crownsguards. He was intimately aware of the notoriously… distracting arousal that plagued Lucian men and the inevitable role many members of the Royal Guard would come to fill......the changes in his own body, however... those were unexpected.





	Mercy's Eyes Are Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't read this fic without reading the tags

Ignis had anticipated it, of course. In preparation for his own role within the Line, he had done extensive reading into the histories of past Lucian Kings and their Crownsguards. He was intimately aware of the notoriously… distracting arousal that plagued Lucian men and the inevitable role many members of the Royal Guard would come to fill.

He had been watching Noctis carefully for years, looking for the signs, but puberty came slow to the Prince and he still slept with open doors while Ignis was around, very rarely sequestering himself away for more private activities. 

By the time Noctis was a senior in high school, the signs of his exhausting Lucian insatiability had yet to appear and Ignis was actually starting to become concerned (inaccurate… disappointed, if he’s honest). In a moment of weakness, Ignis had let slip to Gladiolus that he was surprised Noctis wasn’t further distracted by it and Gladio told him sheepishly that he’s been indulging Noctis after practice for years. 

“Last few weeks,” Gladio noted aloud, “Been wanting it more and more, gotta make him cum when he gets there and before he leaves or he’s useless for practice.” 

Gladio’s cheeks were pink but he didn’t look away when Ignis met his amber eyes. It was Ignis that has to break away from the searching gaze. 

“An escalation, perhaps,” Ignis said softly, trying to cast the hope from his voice. 

He tried not to let the information hurt. Gladio and Noctis have had physical relationship for years, it only made sense Noctis turned to him first at the dawn of his awakening. 

Despite knowing the his tendency for indifference, it would surprise Ignis if Noctis truly weren’t privy to his feelings. Ignis was at his apartment twice as often as he is scheduled to, tidying his space and filling his fridge with food the rather particular prince enjoys, doing everything in his power to make sure Noctis is comfortable, and happy, and cared for. Since early teenhood, Ignis had been scrambling to fill the role absent parents had left behind in Noctis’ life. Noctis must know that love is the driving force beneath it. 

And yet, in the rare moments Noctis’ blues eyes would land on him, Ignis always felt like he was being looked past, rather than seen through. 

It was a few weeks after the conversation with Gladio that Ignis had showed up to the Prince’s apartment on a Monday morning to make him breakfast and drive him to school and he was greeting by a closed door where he is usually able to look right through to the sleeping heap of Noctis in his bed. 

He slowed his soft steps as he passed Noctis’ bedroom door. He thought he could perhaps hear the rustle of breath or a mattress spring, but he couldn’t be certain. 

Ignis did the dishes and started breakfast. Noctis did not emerge from his bedroom, though he must have been able to hear the sound of Ignis working. He eyed the clock. Maybe his alarm didn’t go off. Ignis wondered if he should try to wake him. 

Fifteen minutes later, Ignis did try to wake him. He took the food off the heat and approached Noctis’ bedroom door. There was no response when he rapped softly, but he heard Noctis gasp through the wall. 

“Noct?”

Ignis leaned close to the door, listening intently. He thought he could hear Noctis moving or breathing.

“Are you alright? You’re going to be late for school.” 

Another gasp. 

“I-- can’t!” 

The sound of his voice, broken across his need went straight to Ignis’ stomach and made his cheeks burn. Without thought, he threw the door open. 

Noctis was sitting up on the edge of his bed, in a sweat drenched t-shirt and his cock pulled through his boxers. He pumped himself furiously. His hand stuttered only briefly upon Ignis’ entrance and Ignis caught a just a glimpse of his face, red and wet and furrowed through the brow before Noctis faced away from him again. 

“Let me help you,” Ignis said from the doorway. 

Noctis did not answer him, but he did not resist Ignis’ approach. Noctis watched Ignis as he did, his mouth hanging slack. The bed dipped beneath his movements, and as Ignis got closer he could see the straining muscles in his neck, the tension in his wrist as he jerked himself, the raw pink skin of his cock. 

When Ignis stopped before him, Noctis’ eyes cut back to his own lap and he groaned, switching the hand he was using to stroke himself. 

“Can’t stop,” he said. “Not enough.” 

“I want to take care of you,” Ignis told him, his eyes raking over the image of Noctis aroused and distressed on the bed. Ignis had to consciously control the rhythm of his breathing. 

Noctis groaned again, his thighs spreading slightly as he lifts his hips off the bed, fucking himself through his own clenched fist and what little composure Ignis had managed dissolved. 

He fells to his knees in front of him, laying his hands over his bare thighs. Noctis bit back a sound like a whine in his throat and Ignis could feel him trembling beneath his palms. 

“Please,” he begged his Prince. “Allow me…” 

Ignis reached forward and replaced Noctis’ hand with his own and Noctis only let go of himself when Ignis was there to receive him. He let out a choked sigh at the sensation of Ignis’ hand on him and Ignis could not tell if it is a sound of pleasure or pain. 

Ignis replaced his hand with his mouth and Noctis immediately drove up into him. Ignis’ eyes welled up, though he wasn’t sure if it was the unfamiliar sensation of a cock sliding across his tongue or the ragged sound of Noctis’ moaning that made him feel like crying. 

Noctis came two more times for him that morning and Ignis managed to get him to school only thirty minutes after the start of homeroom. 

However the sight of him in the passenger seat had been too much for Ignis: well-fed and sharply dressed in his school uniform, looking peaceful and satiated where he rests against the car door, his cobalt eyes studying him while Ignis was forced to study the road. 

As soon as Noctis was out of the car Ignis parked the car in a garage around the corner and finished himself behind tinted windows, rubbing his chest through his shirt, stunned by the feeling of his heart knocking back against his hand.

That night Ignis lay in his bed unable to push Noctis from his mind, the prince curled up in his thoughts and he sways between the selfish indulgence of illicit replays and the honorable satisfaction of serving His Highness. His dick stiffened, his body ached. 

Tuesday morning, Ignis arrived at Noct’s apartment and the Prince was still in bed but his door was open. He sat up when he heard Ignis come in and they looked at each other through the doorframe. Noctis’ hair was sleep-mussed and his eyes were thin slits as he studied his advisor. He must had just awoken. Ignis found himself stunned at the sight of his person after an evening entertaining the fantasy of him. 

He watched Noctis yawns, stretching his arms over his head, peering at Ignis through one cracked eye as he sing-songs. And then still looking back at him, Noctis let a hand fall to his lap and began to palm himself through his boxers. In an instant, Ignis dropped his bag in the hallway just outside of Noctis’ door and went to him. 

Ignis knew that he worked for Noctis. Ignis knew that cooking and laundry and tutoring and taxiing were all work. But it’s never really felt like work, because the process of caretaking for Noctis had always been more fulfilling than it was exhausting. 

Ignis had always known this would be the final piece. 

He sat down on the bed beside Noctis and the Prince says, “Hey.”

His voice was gravelly from sleep and when Ignis reached his hand inside of his shorts, he found his body still warm beneath the covers, his skin smooth and soft, his cock hard.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” 

The next two days, Ignis rose Noctis in the mornings with his hand or his mouth and he could barely get the Prince to school each day before he had to stop the car and relieve himself of his own suddenly crippling arousal. He noted with amusement that the Prince’s condition is not known to be contagious, but it certainly felt that way. 

As his role in Lucis changed, his body seemed to be changing in kind. It had never been so easy to bring himself ashore before, nor has he found himself wanting and pinned in his slacks this often. He was seemingly aroused by the most basic of tasks. If the errand was tangibly tied to Noctis, he would find himself distracted by the memories of their mornings. Already burnt into his mind were the soft and quietly desperate noises Noctis makes when he’s close and the feeling of his fingers trailing down Ignis’ hollowed cheeks the first time Noctis had reached out and touched him back. 

Ignis loves him. Has always loved him. From the moment he met Noctis as a four-year-old. Only six himself, Ignis remembers clearly the moment they stood before each other and he stared at the beautiful boy, a soft face and wide open eyes, wholly understanding that his entire life was to be dedicated to ensuring his success. Noctis had teetered forward and hugged him that day, saying simply,

“Hello.”

For the next four years, they had been nearly inseparable, spending afternoons in the same Citadel daycare and Ignis would follow behind Noctis on his grand imaginary adventures, slaying beasts and rescuing those in need. Ignis would tell well-timed jokes and the sound of Noctis’ contagious laughter would ring across the room. Even then, Noctis made Ignis feel smart and funny and he will forever treasure the memories of Noctis’ tiny hand wrapped around his, yanking him around the playroom at his littlest whim. 

When Noctis was injured, the news found Ignis back in Insomnia and pain filled his chest like he was being smothered and his Uncle has chastised him, disappointed in his behavior, in the way Ignis had run to him feeling helpless with sobs escaping him.

“Prince Noctis is recovering,” he had said. “He will return to the Crown City soon. In the meantime, you can work to better yourself so you may better serve him.” 

Ignis had done exactly that. He began studying the history of Lucis, the power of the Crystal, the ancient prophecies that he was suddenly told belonged to his Prince specifically. Fascination gave way to fear, and in his absence, Ignis pledged himself more fervently to the service of the Chosen King he would one day belong to. 

Noctis did eventually return to him, several weeks later, but the Prince was never the same. His energy was low, tragedy robbed him of his playfulness. His once wide and wondrous eyes cut low and avoid contact. He slept, and Ignis worried. He did what he could for Noctis in the following years, and their relationship retreated further from friendship as Ignis learned to cook and drive, and then further as Noctis’ mood became depressive and unpredictable in his adolescence. Education and duty had driven a wedge between them, and the two slipped into a less affectionless, business-like relationship. 

It hurt, but this was his duty, and he would endure. 

Then one day, in his studies, he learned the truth about the future that awaited him with his Prince, and Ignis had become consumed, obsessed with the idea that their close relationship would be returned to him. If not as a friend, as something more. He longed to see those bright blue eyes wide and locked on his once more. 

It was going to be better than before. 

And he was patient while Noctis took his time. 

But now, here, at the dawning of Noctis’ desire, he felt frantic. Ignis found himself aching to be everything he needs, and he felt it everywhere, in the way his stomach tightened at the sight of Noctis’ arousal and the way his cock throbbed with neglect in his still zipped trousers whenever he got him off. Every time Noctis groaned, Ignis felt his devotion to his Prince in his chest, tender and tight when he breathed. 

 

It takes Noctis anywhere between two and four releases before he is capable of getting out of bed and get ready for school. With every climax he brought Noctis to, the Prince grew softer in his hands, beneath his touch. His sounds turned keening, his breath shallow as he approached complete satisfaction. 

On Friday, Noctis finished on number four and looked down at Ignis, his eyes wide as he took in the look of his advisor, chin and cheeks wet, lips swollen in his lap. Their eyes locked and Noctis let him hold him there for a while, a gift in itself. 

“Iggy…” he sighed. 

The feeling of pure adoration that washed over him threatened to make him cry and Ignis, for once, is the one who had to look away. 

He held his composure and cleaned himself up in the bathroom. He made Noctis breakfast while the Prince showered and only he after he has dropped the Prince off for school did Ignis allow himself to address his own desperate need. 

He came on the steering wheel and while he cleaned up with the wet wipes he's gotten accustomed to carrying, he fretted the coming weekend and his two scheduled mornings off, suddenly afraid that come Monday morning, Noctis might not need him any more. 

All day he trudged through his task list, followed by the fear that his growing happiness may turn to dust in his hands. 

Ignis eyed the clock, shamefully indulging in the jealous curiosity of how he and Gladio may be spending their time at practice. 

It was only twenty minutes after practice ends that Ignis’ phone sounded. 

_Come make me breakfast tomorrow_

Ignis stared down at his phone, rendered completely useless by the three rotating dots at the bottom of the screen. 

_Gonna need you_

Ignis wanted sleep away the hours so badly that it evaded him entirely. The night crawled by and he lay in bed sweating, trying to slow his racing heart. The longer he lay awake, the more feverish he begins to feel, and Ignis has to shed his cotton shirt, the material too sharp against his overly-sensitive skin. His heart thunks, and the longer it pounds in his chest, the more uncomfortable it begins to feel. Another hour passes and Ignis would actually use the word pain over discomfort. 

And all the while he endures he thinks of Noctis, somehow distantly aware that his pain is related to his Prince, his pledge, his passion, and so it doesn’t matter… 

He aches until sunrise. 

Not a wink of sleep and three cups of ebony later, Ignis drives to Noctis’ apartment. He cannot buckle the seatbelt over his tender chest-- was barely able to cup himself in his hand when he had showered earlier, the flesh feeling concerningly warm and…, though he thinks he may be crazy, swollen beneath his palms. 

Perhaps a trip to the doctor is in order, but first, he must tend to his Prince. 

Noctis is still asleep when Ignis steps inside, his bedroom door open. It is the weekend, and he will probably want to sleep in, so Ignis pulls his door shut so he may prepare breakfast without disturbing him. 

Ignis starts a pot of coffee and pulls a loaf of bread from the cupboard. He whisks the eggs and slices the fruit and all the while the pressure in his chest grows. Just the motion of stirring makes his chest hurt and despite the heat of the range, Ignis breaks into a cold sweat. A spike of pain shoots across his chest and Ignis finally has to drop what he’s doing to lean forward on the counter in pain. 

Carefully, he brings a hand to lay over one of his breasts and he can feel the gentle, painful throb against his palm. Curiously, Ignis applies pressure and he gasps in shock when wetness blooms across his shirt, darkening the fabric and moistening his fingers where he touches himself. 

He stares down at himself in horror, but he presses again, the leaking of fluid relieving just the slightest bit of pressure, the right side of his shirt growing wet and heavy as he desperately seeks the minute relief. 

“Ignis?”

Ignis inhales sharply, turning to see Noct over his shoulder, not having heard him leave his room. Noctis stands in his pajamas behind him, tenting his boxers. Ignis groans at the sight of him and has to face the countertop once more, unable to stop himself from massaging his chest and soaking his clothes. 

“What…?”

 

Noctis’ hand lands heavy on his shoulder and turns him around. Ignis looks at him, but Noctis is staring at his leaking chest. 

Ignis cannot move, his strategist brain cut off by confusion, mortification and the dark, hungry shade in his Prince’s eyes. 

“Noct--” he begins, but he has no direction to take the words and the pain in his chest is dizzying. He leans back against the counter, his hands white knuckled on the edge. 

Noctis reaches forward and Ignis has to bite back a yelp when his rough hand comes in contact with his tender chest, and then again when Noctis tears open the buttons on his shirt. 

Ignis and him both look down at his exposed chest, heaving with his labored breathing, swollen and round. He can see the rich, rosy blush coloring his typically mocha nipples, and they stand at attention in Noctis’ sights. He can practically feel the Prince’s breath where it warms the cooling liquid that continues to dribble down the right side of his chest. 

Technically speaking, Ignis understands what is happening. Why and how will have to be dealt with later, because Noctis is palming at him with one hand, causing milk to flow down his chest and stomach, providing him sweet relief from the painful pressure. The Prince’s other hand dips below the waistband of his boxers. 

Noctis searches his eyes once, deeply, briefly, and then stoops down to latch onto him. 

The Prince sucks at him insistent and demanding right away, and Ignis can feel himself burst into his mouth. The pleasure is immediate and all-consuming. The pain that had been plaguing him dissolves into a steady stream of pleasure, brought forth by his Prince’s lips suctioned around him. Noctis moans against him and his knees buckle. 

Clumsily, they slip to the floor, Ignis’ legs too weak to hold himself up but Noctis unwilling to let go. Noctis pushes him back against the cupboards and tucks his knees beneath himself, one hand working himself beneath his underwear, the other pressing at Ignis’ chest, forcibly emptying him into Noctis’ waiting mouth. 

Collapsed back against the wall, all Ignis can do is hold onto Noctis where the Prince hunches over him, one hand on the back of his head, the other gripping his shoulder. Noctis drains him on one side before releasing him with a ‘pop’ and sliding his open mouth to his still swollen breast on the other side.

The pleasure brought about by Noctis’ suckling is immense. It flows through his entire body, the waves originating from Noctis’ mouth and rolling through his stomach and hips, trickling all the way to his toes. Ignis can’t help but moan and pant softly as Noctis relieves him and he buries the sounds he makes in the top of Noctis head, breathing in deeply his scent. The smell of him, combined with the sensation of his hungry mouth, is simply too much for Ignis and he reaches his climax untouched. It crashes over him, unexpected but terribly welcome, and he lets out a very obvious groan, Noctis chuckling deeply through a mouthful of milk when he does. 

Noctis cums twice, neither time unlatching from Ignis’ nipple, instead just whining around him, his teeth worrying the sensitive flesh just barely. Still, it’s enough to make Ignis whimper and Noctis releases his own cock to pet both of his hands gently over Ignis’ bust, alternating between the two until he is certain both mounds are completely emptied. 

Relieved of his pain, Ignis showers and Noctis lends him some clothes so he may start a load of laundry containing his milk-soaked shirt and his soiled slacks. He makes himself another cup of ebony and sips it while he puts away the half-prepared breakfast.

No longer hungry, the Prince goes back to bed. 

Ignis never did go to the doctor. Noctis asked him to come over the next morning too, and every morning after that, and Ignis found that being emptied every twenty-four hours kept the pain at bay. 

Still, at the start of each day, Ignis would awake tender and full and desperate to feed his Prince and he would drive to Noctis’ apartment with his seatbelt unfastened, his shirt unbuttoned by the time he shouldered open Noctis’ cracked bedroom door, Noctis already reaching for him as he steps out of his shoes and crawls into the Prince’s bed, and every day for a month, Noctis would give Ignis a more, just a little more, each time he brought his mouth to his breast and fed. More eye contact, more touches, more soft and needy mewls as his milk filled him up. Ignis watched with incredible fondness as Noctis transformed in his arms, became someone soft and affectionate, someone he had known from before...

Now, enough exposition… 

The early morning sun filters into the bedroom where Ignis had cracked the blinds before getting into bed with the Prince. He has a first quarter exam today, and Ignis has arrived at his apartment early to make sure he is well-fed and wholly satisfied before he delivers him to school. Ignis stifles a yawn, only to have to bite back a moan a moment later when the Prince tugs particularly hard at his nipple. 

“Careful, love…” he murmurs, lowering his face to nuzzle at his temple and Noctis leans into it, unlatching from his breast when he does, panting shallow and hot over Ignis’ sensitive flesh. 

“What is it?” he asks, bringing a hand up to brush through his short bangs. Noctis lets his head roll back onto Ignis’ arm where he supports him and gazes up at him. His expression is foggy in a way Ignis has come to treasure. Ignis strokes his face gently and Noctis lets him, blinking slowly a few times before his eyes fall shut. 

“Are you still hungry, Your Highness?” 

Noctis smiles softly without opening his eyes and nods. Ignis gasps brokenly as Noctis suddenly latches onto his other side, milk flowing eagerly into his demanding little mouth. 

“Drink it all,” Ignis tells him, his voice thin as Noctis draws pleasure from him. “It’s all for you. I get so full for you. Mama loves to feed you, little prince.” 

Noctis opens his eyes and peers up at him then, his wide eyes shockingly blue, intent on Ignis’ face, listening to him. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” 

Noctis nods again, the motion of it tugging at Ignis’ over-worked nipple, his eyes fluttering shut, once more. Ignis huffs a few times, trying to reel in his spiraling pleasure lest he ruin his clothes, but Noctis continues to suckle at him firmly and as he empties himself inside of him, his dick throbs and his insides ache around the plug he wears as preparation. 

“Feels good for mama, too.”

 

Noctis whines loudly at his words and begins to frantically reposition himself, still tonguing at Ignis’ chest while he coaxes the last few spurts from him. He collapses over Ignis lap and begins to grind his hips into Ignis’ thigh, moaning around his nipple as he finds friction for his hard dick. 

“That’s it, Noctis,” he coos. “Take what you need from me.” 

Noctis grunts, hunched over awkwardly so he may rut against Ignis without ceasing his nursing. Ignis scratches at the base of his skull, pets his neck, patiently ignoring his own painful arousal while Noctis sucks him dry, knowing as soon as he is finished, the prince will give back.

“Every last drop,” Ignis says. “Help you grow big and strong.” 

Noctis gives one last ruthless tug on Ignis’ nipple before letting it fall from his lips. He is breathing raggedly as he crawls up Ignis’ body and collapses on top of him and Ignis sighs when he can finally press his own hips up into Noctis’ attention. 

“My good boy,” Ignis chimes. “So good to your Mama.”

“Mommy,” Noctis gasps his first word of the day, pressing it against Ignis’ neck so that he more feels it than hears it past the prince’s deafening panting. Noctis pressed Ignis into the mattress with his rolling hips, his forearm digging uncomfortably across Ignis’ recently emptied chest. 

“Let me in,” he groans. 

“Please, let me undress, baby,” Ignis tells him, but he can already tell Noctis is too far gone to take any instruction. Ignis learned rather quickly that just a few minutes of nursing could make Noct’s dick hard and his brain fuzzy and lately Ignis has been providing upwards of twenty minutes before the prince would manage to nurse him empty. According to the bedside clock, Noctis drank from him for nearly half an hour and Ignis blinks at it in surprise. 

“Wanna fuck you,” Noctis whimpers, his teeth digging into Ignis’ flesh as he presses his mouth open and panting against the crook of his neck. 

“You can, darling,” Ignis says, patting Noctis’ undulating hip with his hand, “just help me undress.” 

“Mama,” Noctis whines, shaking his head, doubling his rhythm, unable to stop and the word has the same effect on Ignis as it did the first time Noctis let it slip. 

He would do anything for him. 

Ignis struggles, but manages to reach beneath Noctis where the Prince lay useless and rutting on top of him. He unzips his trousers and and shifts them just enough to tug loose the plug that holds his stretched and slicked entrance open. Noctis whines at the sound of it hitting the hardwood floor and he begins to scramble over Ignis, his thrusting hips desperately seeking entrance. 

“Hungry boy,” Ignis smiles. 

He reaches down and pulls Noctis’ cock through the front of his boxers, the Prince’s own hands too busy where they are fisted in Ignis’ shirt to do it himself. As soon as he is free, Noctis goes digging his cock roughly between Ignis’ legs and without preamble, buries himself inside when he finds the way. 

Ignis gasps, wrapping his arms around Noctis’ shoulders and pressing his mouth against the top of his head. Noctis is rough and clumsy when he fucks, not worrying much about the uncomfortable pressure he causes when he leans his forearm into Ignis’ collar bone, or the way he would tear Ignis open with his imprecise thrusting if the adviser didn't ensure to come over prepared. His stomach fat with his milk, the Prince is sloppy and lazy. 

Ignis wouldn't have it any other way. 

All he has to do is wrap his hand loosely around his own erection, Noctis’ careless penetration and half an hour of build up enough to send him careening over the edge, and he spills effortlessly onto both of their stomachs. The feeling of his pleasure hitting Noctis’s skin makes the Prince grin against his neck, his teeth worrying the flesh as he lets out a small, strained chuckle. 

“Mama loves my cock,” Noctis murmurs, his words soft and slurred due to the state he is in. 

“Yes, he does,” Ignis gasps, coming down from his peak, wrapping his arms around him and drawing Noctis’ surging body closer. The Prince scrambles to readjust his footing on the bed, grunting and beginning to babble as he approaches his edge. 

“Mommy… mommy…” he whines, his hips hammering away carelessly. “Mommy… I love, I love… Fuck… Mom-- Iggy, fuck, I love you.” 

He’s said it every time since the first time he buried himself roughly inside of Ignis’ unprepared hole and Ignis doesn’t think he could ever tire of it. And this time, attached to his name, the three words consume him. Noctis slams sloppily into him a few more times, and then he suddenly falls still, whining long and low as he reaches his peak inside of him. 

“I love you too, darling,” Ignis sighs, fingers combing Noctis’ hair as they both regain their breathing. Noctis rolls off of him and onto the bed beside him, staring back at Ignis with his wide blue eyes and for a few moments, Ignis is lost in them, just petting the hair off of Noctis’ forehead, thinking he should cut it soon to keep his bangs from blocking those baby blues. 

After several minutes, the glassy expression on Noctis’ face begins to fade and he clarity breaks through his gaze. As he emerges from his milk-induced stupor, Noctis’ eyes slide away from Ignis’ face to caress the wall. 

“Go on and shower,” Ignis says, pulling himself from the bed and straightening his clothes. “I’ll prepare you something to eat.” 

“Not hungry,” Noctis murmurs. 

“I’ll pack you a lunch then,” Ignis responds, studying Noctis in the bed where he lay unmoving. “Better get moving.” 

Without looking at him, Noctis rises and shuffles into the bathroom, his hands tugging at his own hair as he goes. 

Just outside of the school, Ignis parks the car and studies the silent Prince, who fusses with his messenger bag and doesn’t meet his eyes. 

“Noct,” Ignis says. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you satisfied?”

Noctis looks at him then. 

“For now,” he says. 

“Gladio will receive you after school,” Ignis says. “Will that be enough to sustain you?” 

“Prompto’s coming over tonight,” Noctis says a little sheepishly. 

Ignis makes a sound at the new information. 

“I’m fine,” Noctis says, “it’s not that. I just…” 

Ignis watches him in confusion, uncharacteristically unable to predict the Prince’s next words. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly says, and just as swiftly, Noctis leans over the seat and plants a kiss on Ignis’ cheek. 

“See you tomorrow,” he calls out as he exits the vehicle and shuts the door. 

Ignis smiles the whole drive home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ^^
> 
> Come yell at me on twitter @taketheblanket
> 
> Fic title is a lyric from "Saint Simon" by The Shins


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